Silence
by Peg Gep
Summary: Ryan's life is finally going right when he gets a phone call that changes everything. Chapter 8 is up!
1. The Silent Prologue

Prologue  
For the first time since he was three, Ryan Atwood felt truly happy. He had a stable home, a stable foster family, no money worries, and he didn't have to worry that he'd get beaten up each time he left the house. While these were things that Seth Cohen (and everyone else in Orange County) had never had to worry about, they were usually constants on Ryan's mood. Yet... He smiled, leaning back against his pillow, they had hardly passed through his mind lately.  
  
Things were good. He had a brother now. Sure, he had a blood-brother, Trey, but Seth was more of a brother than Trey ever had been. Ryan rolled his eyes. Trey had never cared if he hurt him - emotionally or physically. Seth did - he cared so damn much. He also had parents. With his father in jail and his mother... well, his mother doing as Dawn did: abandoning, damaging, hurting... they'd never felt quite like real family. Ryan blew out a deep breath. Dawn Atwood... the one unstable thing in his life at the moment.  
  
Shaking his head quickly, Ryan forced his smile back on his face. Just when he was happy, Dawn always popped back into his mind. Then, of course, Marissa Cooper always found her way into his thoughts and then he couldn't help but smile. Ryan sighed in exasperation - could he ever stay with one emotion at once? Of course not, that'd make his life much too easy.  
  
Ryan turned his head to the right to glance at the clock. Wow, almost time to 'wake up.' He smirked then silently cursed his insomnia.  
  
"Ryan!" There was no knock, of course, just a voice warning as Seth entered the pool house. "Mornin'!"  
  
With a cocked eyebrow, Ryan frowned at his friend. "You know, don't you, that my alarm hasn't even gone off, yet?"  
  
"But you weren't sleeping, now were you?" Seth asked with a grin.  
  
"How would you know?"  
  
"Oh, c'mon, I've heard you muttering under your breath about not getting any sleep. I'm not stupid, Ryan."  
  
Ryan merely chuckled. "Oh, really?"  
  
"Hey, c'mon, man," Seth exclaimed with laughter. "Anyway, there's a phone call for you."  
  
Ryan's eyes widened in surprise. "For me?"  
  
"Yup," Seth said with a hint of amusement.  
  
"Is it Marissa?"  
  
"No..." Seth was definitely grinning this time.  
  
"No, seriously... there's actually a phone call for me?"  
  
"Yeah, c'mon, dude, they're not gonna wait forever!"  
  
"But... Who is it?" Ryan asked as he jumped out of bed and struggled to hop into a pair of pants and a button-up shirt.  
  
"I don't know! Now c'mon, let's get going, okay?" Seth questioned impatiently, grabbing ahold of Ryan's arm, pulling him out of the pool house.  
  
As they entered the house, Sandy was there, the phone in his hand, holding it out for Ryan.  
  
Ryan looked at the phone suspiciously before taking it from his foster father. "Hello?" He answered. "Yes, this is he..." Ryan took in a deep breath quickly, then rushed from the room, ignoring Sandy and Seth's looks. His voice turned cold. "Why the hell are you calling me?" 


	2. 1: The Silent Debate

Chapter 1  
  
"Kid, it's A.J."  
  
Once Ryan had rushed from the room, he whispered harshly into the phone. "Why the hell are you calling me?"  
  
"Don't you dare use that tone with me, you little motherfucker!" A.J. exclaimed, showing that Ryan's absence did not make his heart grown fonder of the teen, no matter the saying.  
  
Though he could only hear him and not see him, Ryan was glaring something fierce. "What do you want?"  
  
"I ain't gonna tell ya' unless you're more polite to your elders, kid."  
  
Ryan took a couple of deep breaths - if he hasn't careful, he'd lose it and begin yelling at A.J. "Tell me what you wanted to tell me, A.J."  
  
"God, damnit, if you..." A.J. trailed off, muttering a string of obscenities before continuing. "It's your ma."  
  
"Mom?" No matter how many times she abandoned him, Ryan would still care for her. As much as he hated this, he knew it was true. "What's wrong with her?"  
  
"She's sick an' she wanted you to be here."  
  
Ryan's heart stopped. "How sick?"  
  
"Sick enough, okay, kid? She wants you to be here, so are you comin' or not?"  
  
With a sigh, Ryan nodded into the phone. "Yeah." He spoke dejectedly. "I'll be there."  
  
"We'll expect you by the end of the day, kid."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Without a farewell of any sorts, A.J. hung up.  
  
Ryan held the phone to his ear until he heard the dial tone. Dawn - Mom - was sick. Sick enough for A.J. to care - sick enough for A.J. to call.  
  
Shit.  
  
Lowering the phone and unconsciously pressing the 'end' button, Ryan sat down, dazed. What could be wrong with her? Well, she did smoke an awful lot... Lung cancer, perhaps? If she was sick because of her cigarettes, then Ryan would give up smoking for good. Or maybe A.J. just beat her so badly that he actually felt bad... No, Ryan gave up that idea, A.J. definitely did not have a conscience.  
  
Looking back at the phone, Ryan knew he'd never forget A.J.'s words: "It's your ma."  
  
Blinking back tears, Ryan knew what he had to do. He had to go see his mom, see if she was all right.  
  
Taking a deep breath, Ryan stood and prepared himself. He walked back into the kitchen, handing the phone back to his foster father.  
  
"Who was it, Ryan?"  
  
Ryan was ready. "It was just Trey razzing me again," he said, acting out a nonchalant shrug.  
  
"You okay?" Sandy questioned.  
  
"Yeah, fine. Uh, I've gotta go to work - I'm gonna go change, then I'll see you later." He raised his hand in a goodbye then rushed from the room, hurrying back to the pool house. He immediately picked up his backpack, stuffing clothes into the main compartment then zipping it shut.  
  
With a deep sigh, Ryan picked up a notebook and ripped out a piece of paper. Frantically searching for a writing utensil, Ryan finally pulled a pen out of his pack and thought for a moment before scribbling out a quick note. After debating it for a moment, he placed the paper on his neatly- made bed, then placed the bag on his back.  
  
"Fuck," Ryan muttered before disappearing from the pool house. 


	3. 2: The Silent Hatred

Author's Note: Okay. first of all, thanks to everyone for reviewing - I really appreciate it!  
  
To Julie, sorry for not making the story completely accurate! I actually wasn't aware that A.J. and Dawn had broken up because I've never seen the show. I know, I know. I'm planning on it! This Wednesday, I'll definitely be watching. Although I was intrigued by the show, I never got a chance to see it. I saw about fifteen minutes of the last show that aired, and from there I was hooked. I've been reading fanfiction as I've gone along, so I've been figuring out characters' personalities from other peoples' stories.  
  
To Angrypadawan,. Because I've never seen the show (not to worry, an O.C. fan is going to send me her tapes so I can catch up!), I've never seen Ryan and A.J. interact, so I haven't been able to write that correctly, either. Once again, I'm really sorry about that! Oh. and the title is Silence because of stuff that'll come later in the story.  
  
On with the story!  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Thanks, man," Ryan muttered, pushing open the door of the truck.  
  
"Yeah, no problem," the flannel-wearing trucker nodded, impatiently waiting for Ryan to hop out of the automobile.  
  
Wow, that guy made him uncomfortable. Oh well, he was almost home now. Home...? Ryan wondered. Was Dawn Atwood's home in Chino really his home? Or was his home with the Cohens? Did he even have a home? No matter where his home was, Ryan knew that he had to return to where Dawn was now. He was worried beyond belief, even if he didn't want to be.  
  
After about an hour of walking alongside the road, he spotted his mother's small house. Thousands of 'what if's plaguing his mind, Ryan broke out into a sprint.  
  
"Mom?" He called out, pushing open the creaky door.  
  
"You actually showed up." A.J. scowled.  
  
"I said that I would," Ryan mumbled, slinging his bag from his shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, well, you say a lot, don't you?"  
  
Struggling to ignore A.J., Ryan called out again. "Mom?" He walked from room to room, looking around nervously. "Where is she?" He demanded, turning to glare at A.J.  
  
Returning the glare, A.J. merely pointed.  
  
Following A.J.'s finger to the bedroom, Ryan pushed open the door and walked in. He couldn't help but let out a gasp. He'd seen Dawn drunk and stoned, but this was worse than anything he'd seen before in terms of sickness. Dawn's cheeks were pallid, her light eyes looked sunken into her head, and she had obviously lost a lot of weight, much more than was healthy for any human. "Mom...?" Ryan whispered, walking over, taking her slim hand.  
  
His only response was a groan of pain. Ryan looked behind him - A.J. was standing in the doorway. "Why isn't she in a hospital?"  
  
A.J. scoffed. "She doesn't need a hospital."  
  
Ryan clenched his teeth in rage then turned back to his mother. Her breath was shallow, coming out in short wheezes. "When did she get sick?" he questioned anxiously, his eyes darting around, looking at his mother's features quickly, trying to figure out what exactly was wrong. Shit, he wished that he'd paid more attention to the charts on the walls of those free clinics that he'd always gone to.  
  
When he heard no response, he glanced back at his mother's lover and scoffed. A.J. almost looked uncomfortable! Serves him right, he thought before looking back to Dawn with worry sketched into his features. "A.J.? When'd she get sick?"  
  
"About a week ago."  
  
"A week?!?" Ryan exclaimed, his jaw dropping. "She's been like this a week and she's still here? She should be in a hospital!"  
  
"You know we can't afford a hospital, kid!"  
  
Shaking his head in disgust, Ryan stroked his mother's clammy hand, silently formulating a plan.  
  
~~~  
  
"He's gone."  
  
"What?" Sandy Cohen questioned his son, who responded by handing him a single sheet of folded notebook paper. Opening it, Sandy exchanged a glance with his wife before reading out loud. " 'First thing's first. I'm sorry.'" Sandy immediately groaned. Nothing good could come after an opening like that. " 'But don't worry about me, I didn't run away. I'll be back, though I don't know how long it'll be. No more than a couple days, I'm sure. A.J. called, my mom's sick and I have to go see her. Sorry again, Ryan.'" Sighing, he shook his head. "Well, at least he assured us that he didn't run away," he muttered discouragingly.  
  
"We know where she lives," Kirsten stated immediately. "We should go find him."  
  
"No," Sandy answered quickly. "There's a post script. 'P.S., don't come after me. I'll be fine, and I'll be back. Not to worry.' That's such a Ryan thing to say." He sat down, silently re-reading the letter.  
  
"So, that's it?" Seth asked incredulously. "We're not going to go find him?"  
  
"He's not lost, Seth, we know where he is. He clearly expressed that he doesn't want us to come get him. Apparently he needs to do this by himself," Kirsten spoke softly.  
  
"But... what if he doesn't come back?" Seth's dark eyes were wide.  
  
"We'll give him a few days - he said that he should be back by then. If we haven't even heard from him in three days, I'll try calling, then the next step of action would be to go visit Dawn Atwood's residence."  
  
Hardly satisfied, Seth let out a quiet grumble accompanied by a nod.  
  
Smirking sadly, Sandy nodded. "Good... good." 


	4. 3: The Silent Fear

Chapter 3  
  
Glancing at his mother's digital clock, Ryan whispered out the time. "11:21." It was dark outside, the bright moon casting the only natural light. Biting his bottom lip, Ryan gulped and went over his plan once again. A.J. should have left about ten minutes ago to go visit a bar or go to a liquor store to get stocked up. Ryan had checked - the booze was almost all gone, and he knew that A.J. wouldn't wait for Dawn to recover to get head over heels drunk.  
  
Ryan bit his now-nonexistent nails nervously. He was leaving a few more minutes before he was going to try to sneak his mother out of there. It was only a fifteen minute walk to the edge of town, and from there they could probably hitch a ride to the hospital.  
  
He stopped pacing just long enough to listen. Only the sounds of the aging house and his mother's jagged breathing. Turning his eyes towards the clock once again, Ryan nodded in satisfaction. It was time to put his plan into action.  
  
Ryan left his bedroom (where he'd pretended to be asleep until he heard the front door slam), practically running to his mother's room. "Mom," he whispered, sneaking a hand behind her head, his other hand gently shaking her. "Mom, it's time to wake up. C'mon, Mom," he whispered frantically.  
  
Dawn's eyes cracked open a slit and Ryan took the opportunity.  
  
"Okay, up and at 'em, Mom... We've got to get going."  
  
"Where are we going?" Dawn croaked - she hadn't used her voice for a few days.  
  
"We're going to get you feeling better, Ma, don't worry," Ryan said, using his upper-arm strength to raise his mother's upper half. "C'mon, Mom, I can't carry you all the way to town..." Placing her right arm around his neck, he stood slowly. "Yeah, that's good, Mom..."  
  
He half-dragged his mother out of the room. "We're almost to the door, Mom..." He figured if he narrated the trip, she'd be more apt to stay awake.  
  
"Where are we going?" She feverishly questioned again.  
  
"We're going to the hospital, Mom... We want you to get better, we want you to feel well again."  
  
Dawn merely groaned in response. Just as Ryan kicked open the front door and held it open with his hip, he noticed his mother's eyes closing. "No! No, Mom, c'mon, it's time to stay awake, c'mon..." he begged nervously. "C'mon, or A.J.'ll get back and you know he doesn't want you to go the hospital..." He continued to ramble on, watching as his mother struggled to keep her eyes again.  
  
Ryan sighed in relief when he heard a familiar question. "Where are we going?"  
  
With a half-smile, Ryan opened his mouth to speak, yet he was interrupted, this voice much less welcome than his mother's.  
  
"Yeah, where are we going, kid?"  
  
Ryan gaped at A.J., whose face sported a dangerous smirk. His eyes glinted in rage. "You weren't plannin' on bringin' her to the hospital after I told ya' no, were ya', kid?"  
  
The teenager gulped, yet bravely nodded. "Yes, I was, A.J."  
  
"That's real stupid, kid. Real stupid." A.J. took a couple of steps towards Ryan then nodded back into the house. "Get back in there, kid."  
  
Ashamed that he was giving in but seeing no other choice, Ryan made sure he had a firm grasp on his mother before turning around. He carefully set her back down on her thin mattress, covering her shivering, bony body with a blanket. Afraid to turn around towards his enemy, Ryan took extra- special care with his mother, smoothing back her hair, straightening her blanket, and making she was truly asleep (more likely passed out from the slight excursion).  
  
Closing his eyes for a moment, Ryan sucked in a deep breath then turned from Dawn, where A.J. was standing in the doorway. "C'mon, kid," he said, jerking his thumb towards the living room.  
  
Feeling a large mix of emotions, Ryan nodded, slowly walking from the room. He was angry at everyone. At himself for leaving his mother, for not fully checking that A.J. had left... angry at A.J. for being such an asshole,.... Ryan was scared. A.J. was not someone to mess around with, especially when he was sober. Although scared, he was also strangely calm. Subconsciously he knew what was about to happen... and although he feared for his life, he was fine with it. He'd much rather die this way - trying to save his mother, than getting beat up by Luke or shot by Donnie.  
  
Reaching the living room, Ryan turned to A.J. with a poker face. "Yes?" To his surprise, his voice wasn't shaking.  
  
"You disobeyed me." A.J. stated in disbelief.  
  
"Yes."  
  
Although Ryan spoke calmly, A.J. definitely was not in the mood for calamity. "Your ma does not need a hospital! She's fine! She's doing just fine here with me! She don't need you to be a hero, kid!"  
  
With this said, Ryan felt a surge of rage rush through his body. Before he could stop himself, he made a huge mistake.  
  
"What is it, A.J.?" He spat furiously. "You won't use your drug money to save Mom's life?" Boy, did it feel good to say that.  
  
Ryan had expected A.J. to blow up at that remark. He hadn't expected a seemingly calm response. "You hit it right on the nail, kid." With clenched teeth, he spoke again. "Now shut the fuck up."  
  
Ryan saw A.J.'s brass knuckled hand flying out to meet his face. Then he only saw darkness, and his world turned to silence. 


	5. 4: The Silent Frustration

Author's Note: Well... here's Chapter 4! Sorry for the delay... the high school musical's taking up practically all of my time. We open tomorrow. *freaks out* Yeah. I have a semi-lead. *continues to freak* Damn. Anyway... Yay, so now I've seen two episodes! I'll be receiving the tapes of the summer episodes fairly soon, then I can truly know what I'm writing about. Thanks for all the reviews, I really appreciate it! Anyway... On with the story - enjoy!  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Ryan woke up to a throbbing headache and an all-too-familiar copper taste in his mouth. Reaching a hand up, he trailed a finger under his nose - yup, his nose was the source of the blood. With a wince of disgust and pain, Ryan pushed himself to a sitting-up position. Glancing around, he noticed that the remains his backpack was strewn around the room - as were the contents of his bag.  
  
He began to let out a groan, yet it was cut short as he noticed a bottle of whiskey nearby... sitting at the feet of A.J., who was watching Ryan carefully. "You're drunk?" Ryan whispered hoarsely.  
  
"Fuckin' watch what you say, kid," A.J. slurred over his words, and Ryan had a feeling that this half-empty whiskey bottle wasn't his first of the evening.  
  
Letting out a deep sigh, Ryan slowly made his way to his feet. After a short stumble, he began moving around the room, picking up his littered clothes and possessions.  
  
"Leave 'em there," A.J. ordered.  
  
"No - you're drunk, you could trip over something and kill yourself," Ryan reasoned, though he couldn't help but admit that he wouldn't mind A.J.'s death too much.  
  
"Leave 'em there, kid!" A.J. let out a roar, staggering to his feet.  
  
"No," the teenager spoke obstinately.  
  
"You fucking leave 'em there!"  
  
Ryan continued to pick up his clothes, dropping them on a chair, ignoring his mother's boyfriend.  
  
A.J. swaggered towards Ryan, who, looking tired on many different levels, turned to look at the man. A.J. leaned over, grabbed his bottle by the neck and took a long swig from it. Ryan watched in uninterest. He rolled his eyes, just about to resume his cleaning when A.J. raised the bottle threateningly.  
  
Ryan stopped to a standstill, his eyes wide with fear, suddenly unsure of his future. "A.J..." he murmured, shaking his head. "C'mon, man..."  
  
A.J. let out a loud curse as he brought the quarter-full bottle down on Ryan's head. Ryan went down promptly, sputtering out a mix of alcohol and his own blood that was now trailing down the front of his face from a nicely-sized gash on his forehead.  
  
Ryan blinked repeatedly, unsure if he was going to be able to stay awake or not. After a few moments of blinking, shaking his head, and assuring himself that he wasn't about to drop unconscious at any moment, he looked up at A.J., who was staring at the remains of his whiskey bottle in drunken confusion. The sixteen-year-old couldn't help but smirk, despite the pain. "That was real stupid, A.J... real stupid. You just wasted some of your precious booze on beating me up - something you could've done just fine without the bottle."  
  
A.J. watched Ryan for a few moments, comprehending what he'd just heard. Slowly, his face turned stony as he readjusted his grip on the broken neck of the bottle.  
  
"Oh, shit..." Ryan muttered as A.J. pounced, knowing no mercy. 


	6. 5: The Silent Realization

Thanks for the reviews; I really appreciate it!  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Sandy Cohen threw his pen down in frustration - he was in his office, and, although he'd been there for at least twenty minutes, trying desperately to get some paperwork done, his mind kept wandering to other topics. Namely, Ryan.  
  
It'd been three days since the teenager left, and now Sandy didn't know what to do. He was definitely (usually) a take-action kind of guy, but...  
  
Sandy let out a deep sigh before digging through a desk drawer. Emerging with a single sheet of paper, he glanced at it briefly as he picked up a phone, punched in the numbers, and waited. Setting down the paper, he drummed his fingers against the table -top anxiously. "C'mon, Ryan, pick up," he mumbled to himself, his dark eyebrows knitting together in concern when he received no answer.  
  
Pulling the phone from his ear, he thought for a moment before pressing down the receiver, beginning a new call. He punched in his set of memorized numbers without thought.  
  
"Kirsten Cohen-"  
  
"Kirsten, it's me," he interrupted.  
  
"What's up?" Sandy could hear her typing furiously.  
  
"I may not be home when you return today."  
  
The typing ended abruptly. "Sandy? What's wrong?"  
  
"I'm worried about Ryan - I just tried calling Dawn's place, but no one answered. I'm going down there."  
  
"Of course you are," Sandy could practically see her nodding. "Be careful."  
  
"Will do," Sandy promised. "Love you."  
  
"Love you, too. 'Bye."  
  
He hung up, grabbed the keys to his car and left the house.  
  
~~~  
  
As Sandy parked the car by the curb, he sat and stared towards the house for a few minutes, taking in observations. Dawn and A.J.'s car was there... why hadn't anyone picked up the phone? And... he observed that all the shades were drawn shut - why did he have such an eerie feeling settling in his gut?  
  
Stepping from the car, Sandy glanced around before making sure - and double -checking - that the car was completely locked up. If a nice kid like Ryan could be convinced to help steal a car, then what would other, not-so-well-behaved kids do?  
  
Remembering the reason he was here, Sandy's mind drifted from his car, returning to Ryan. God, he hoped the teenager was all right...  
  
Leaving the car behind him, Sandy hurried towards the Atwood's front door. Finding no doorbell, he swiftly rapped on the door. "Ryan?" He called out. "Hello?" Acting on a hunch, he pushed open the door - ahh, unlocked.  
  
Entering the small household, Sandy stopped in his tracks, gasping at the sight in front of him. 


	7. 6: The Silent Discovery

Author's Note: Okie dokers... I know a lot of you would like me to write longer chapters... I apologize, this one is also fairly short. But I promise, after this, they get a bit longer. I've already written most of the story, so I'm not going to go back and put two chapters together (when they prob'ly shouldn't) to make it longer. I do apologize for the length (or lack thereof), though. Chapter 5 was especially short, but the rest are longer.  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Empty beer cans, whiskey bottles and broken glass littered the ground. Amidst all of this junk, lay the largest piece of junk at all - and though he was conscious, A.J. was so stoned that he was about as useful as he would be if he were unconscious. His bong in his hand, he was looking around the room in wonderment, his wide eyes dilated.  
  
Sandy watched this for a stricken moment in disgust before snapping to attention. Aware that he wouldn't be getting any information out of A.J., he knew he had to find Ryan.  
  
Careful not to step on any of the broken glass, he tiptoed out of the room, moving from space to space until he found the bedroom. Creaking open the door, he glanced inside, then couldn't help but stare. The two occupants of the room both looked like members of the undead. Dawn Atwood lay in the bed, shivering although covered by multiple blankets. Her skin, although never particularly dark, was fairer than ever, and it was obvious that she'd lost a lot of weight. Her facial features were now overly- defined; her cheekbones seemed to protrude much too far beneath her sunken eyes.  
  
And then there was Ryan, who was sprawled on the far side of the bed. Although his coloring suggested that he was still a part of the living, his unavoidable injuries counter-acted any good the coloring brought him. Ryan's nose, which had never been particularly small, was swollen, bulbous, and was now a purplish color. Most likely broken. Instead of a milk mustache, it looked as though he had a blood mustache, as his upper lip was sporting a layer of dried blood. Ryan's left eye was swollen shut, and his hair was matted and tinted a slight red color, obviously from blood.  
  
Sandy placed his hand on the doorframe and took in a shaky breath. If this was just what Ryan's face looked like, what other injuries could he have? Shaking his head, he sighed and pulled out his cell phone, dialing the numbers he'd hoped he'd never have to dial.  
  
"911, what is your emergency?"  
  
First things first, Sandy gave the location. "Yes, in Chino. There are three occupants in this house at the moment... One has obviously been taking hard drugs - a rehabilitation center would probably be best for him once he's sobered up... Another is deathly sick... and the third..." he gulped nervously. "Looks to have been beaten badly..." He hesitated then walked towards Ryan, taking a closer look at the gash on his head. Sandy suddenly recalled the broken glass in the living room. "Perhaps with a broken bottle..." He closed his eyes in emotional pain. "Yes, thank you." He pressed the end button before returning his cell phone to its place.  
  
Sandy watched his foster son carefully, looking for any kind of sign. Receiving none, he pushed some of Ryan's hair off of his forehead, offering a sad smile to no one. 


	8. 7: The Silent Goodbye

Chapter 7  
  
What the hell's going on? Ryan heard... silence! He couldn't be at Dawn's house - it was never quiet there! There was always something going on - usually it was Dawn and A.J. screaming at one another. Yet... silence.  
  
Ryan's curiosity won out over his exhaustion and he placed all of his energy into opening his eyes. Damnit, they didn't want to open, did they?  
  
The moment his blue eyes opened, he cursed under his breath. Damn. A hospital. Glancing around nervously, he racked his brain: what the fuck happened? Slowly, he pushed himself into a sitting position. He couldn't help but let out a smile as he noticed Seth sitting in the chair nearby. Unable to stand the silence much longer, Ryan called out. "Seth!"  
  
Seth started, blinking repeatedly. After a moment of confusion, his eyes widened in realization. "Ryan!" He exclaimed with a smile.  
  
"Hiya," Ryan croaked, relaxing back onto the bed. He glanced at his... naked wrist...? "Where's my watch?"  
  
"With your 'valuables,'" Seth shrugged. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Fine," the teen in the bed responded uncomfortably before obviously changing the subject. "What time is it?"  
  
"About noon,"  
  
"What... day is it?"  
  
"Thursday."  
  
"How long have I been out?," Ryan questioned, realizing that he hadn't been aware of the days passing since he reached his mother's house.  
  
Seth shrugged. "Well... you got here yesterday - that's when Dad found you - but I dunno how long you'd been out before that."  
  
Ryan nodded until a thought struck him. "Your dad found me? Neither Dawn nor A.J. brought me in?"  
  
Seth shook his head. "Nah - I'm sure they woulda if they could, but... neither of 'em were too able to at the time."  
  
Ryan immediately tensed. "Why?" He shuddered, imagining Sandy entering the house, coming face to face with Dawn, her fist gripped around a beer can.  
  
"A.J. was stoned off his ass and your mom was unconscious."  
  
"Unconscious?" Ryan sat up quickly, his eyes widened with worry.  
  
"Yeah... she's in room 315," Seth said, carefully watching his friend.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Sick, I guess," he spoke slowly, wondering if this was information he should be giving Ryan.  
  
"Room 315?" Ryan asked, moving the blanket off his body, wincing as he swung his legs off the bed.  
  
"Yeah, but..." Seth stood, his eyes darting room the now empty bed to the door.  
  
"No buts, dude. I need to see her." Noticing Seth's silent debate on if he should stop him or not, Ryan continued. "I'll be fine, Seth. This is important to me."  
  
Nodding, Seth's decision was made when he failed to intercept Ryan as he limped out the door.  
  
Ignoring any disapproving looks from passing nurses and orderlies, Ryan glanced at the door numbers. "301..." He continued to move as quickly as he was able. "311, 313, 315." With a nod of approval, Ryan pushed open the door to the room.  
  
"Oh, God..." he trailed off, in shock. He'd seen Dawn just a few days before, and although her regular appearance hadn't changed much, all the tubes and such running to her body added a layer of seriousness to the situation. "Mom?" He whispered, shuffling slowly towards her bed. Any hatred he'd ever felt towards her for kicking him out had now disappeared.  
  
"Ryan..." The teenager jumped - he thought that his mother had been asleep.  
  
Taking a seat in the only chair in the room, he took Dawn's bony hands gently. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Sick, baby... I feel sick."  
  
"Well... you are sick, Mom, but..." Diverting his eyes nervously, he subconsciously stroked his thumb against her skin. "You'll be okay, you will." He rambled, looking up time to catch a look in his mother's eyes that he'd never seen there before. A look of defeat.  
  
Dawn shook her head and leaned back, letting out a small wheeze. "No, baby, no... It's over."  
  
Ryan gulped, now unable to take his widened eyes off of his mother. "...It?"  
  
She nodded sadly. "Yeah..." Dawn closed her eyes.  
  
"Mom?!?" Ryan called anxiously. He squeezed her hand tenderly, aware that her breathing was awfully shallow.  
  
Her eyes fluttered open. "I'm sorry, baby... It just hurts so much..."  
  
"Not enough to..." He trailed off. "... to give up!" Ryan shook his head, as if to counteract Dan's nod.  
  
"I'm sorry, baby..."  
  
"No!" Ryan exclaimed, tears welling up in his eyes. "You... I..." He gulped. "I love you, Mom."  
  
"I love you too, baby... I love you too." Dawn smiled weakly before closing her eyes a final time.  
  
Silence.  
  
"...no..." Ryan choked out in disbelief. Dropping Dawn's still hands, Ryan heard her heart monitor drop to a flat-line. Not keen on the idea of being seen in here... vulnerable as he was, he took this opportunity and rushed from the room, barely missing colliding with the nursing staff.  
  
"Seth?" Ryan let out a shaky breath of relief when he found that Seth had left his room.  
  
Less than five minutes later, Ryan limped from the hospital doors, his hand bleeding from where he'd pulled his IV out. Leaning against the building, he glanced around: no one. Sinking to his knees, Ryan placed his face in his hands and finally let out a sob.  
  
Why had this happened? Why the *fuck* had this happened? Ryan looked up and punched the air angrily. The tears instantly stopped falling and they froze in his eyes. His eyes, once a warm color, were now an icy blue. Ryan's mother was dead, and he turned to stone. 


	9. 8: The Silent Mistake

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay in posting! I try post about every Tuesday, the day before the next episode is on, but... It didn't happen this time, sorry! I had this huge Adv. Bio paper due, so... yeah. I never got around to it. Anyway, thank you all so much for the reviews! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. :) Well... On with the story!  
  
Chapter 8  
  
"Ryan?" Sandy pushed open the room's door. As soon as he noticed that the bed, which was supposed to be holding his foster son, was empty, he called out again. "Ryan?" Noticing the closed bathroom door, he moved towards it, rapping his knuckles against the wood.  
  
A second later, he heard a toilet flush, then running water. The door slammed open and he was facing... Seth, who was looking at him in confusion. "Dad?"  
  
Sandy offered his son a small smile before questioning him. "Where's Ryan?"  
  
"He woke up about..." He checked his watch. "... half an hour ago, I guess. He seemed fine. Then..." Seth began to fidget, still unsure of his past decision. "I told Ryan about his mom, and we went to go see her," he spoke hurriedly.  
  
The older man let out a deep sigh. "Seth... we wanted to tell him slowly, to be gentle about it."  
  
"Sorry... it just slipped out," Seth admitted.  
  
"It's okay, son." Sandy winked at his son, looking behind him as a young nurse entered the room.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Where's the patient for this room... a..." She looked at the chart, searching for a name.  
  
"Ryan Atwood." Sandy offered before answering the question. "He's in 315 - his mother's in that room."  
  
The nurse, looking bewildered, shook her head. "No, he isn't. I just came from that room - the woman in there died about ten minutes ago."  
  
Seth stood up straighter, realizing what this meant. Turning to his father, who was equally shocked, he spoke. "He must have bolted."  
  
"Would he?" Sandy addressed his son. "Ryan's not stupid, he must know that it's dangerous to leave the hospital immediately after waking up."  
  
Seth frowned at Sandy. "He may be super-smart, but, although he keeps it inside, he's also highly emotional. Ryan woulda been really upset,... and he doesn't want anyone to see him that upset - I'm fairly sure that he would've left."  
  
Frowning, Sandy turned and stared at the place where the nurse had just been standing. "Damnit," he muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. With a simple flow of movement, he pulled out his cell phone. Looking through his ridiculously long directory of people, he finally found what he was looking for.  
  
"Who are you calling?" Seth asked curiously.  
  
"Trey," Sand responded calmly, listening to the ringing.  
  
"Dad? Trey?" His son responded incredulously. "Why?"  
  
Sandy merely raised a finger, silently putting Seth on hold. "Hello, I need to speak to an inmate: Trey Atwood." After a moment, he nodded. "Yes, thank you." Placing a hand over the phone, he placed his focus back on the teen. "He might know where Ryan may have gone."  
  
Seth let out a deep, impatient sigh.  
  
"Trey? It's Sandy Cohen, Ryan's foster father."  
  
"His lawyer," Trey responded tersely.  
  
"...Yes, that too..."  
  
"What d'ya' want?"  
  
"Well..." Sandy trailed off, realizing that this might not be the best news to be telling the inmate. He chose his words carefully. "Ryan has just lost a friend... he's upset, and... well, he's disappeared."  
  
"So? What d'you want me to do about it, man?"  
  
"Do you have any idea where he might have gone?"  
  
There was an uncomfortably long silence. Sandy pulled the phone from his ear just long enough to make sure he was still connected. "Trey?"  
  
"Why should I help you?"  
  
Sandy's dark eyebrows furrowed. "He's your brother, Trey."  
  
"Yeah, but tellin' you would be helpin' you and not him, and I don't owe you nothin', man. 'Sides," he added, "how do I know that he just don't want to live with you rich folk anymore? God knows I wouldn't."  
  
He ignored Trey's last comment. "You don't know it, Trey... but it's... it's important that we find him; he's hurt."  
  
Trey scoffed. "That kid's been hurt his entire life. Listen, man, you're pathetic. If Ry left, then let him be, okay? He ain't a charity case for you!"  
  
"No, but-" Sandy stopped his shocked response: he was now talking to a dial tone. "Damnit," he muttered, returning his cellular phone to his back pocket.  
  
"What'd he say?" Seth questioned, watching his father's facial expression.  
  
Still hearing Trey's cynical voice in his head, Sandy shook his head quickly, as if trying to forget the phone conversation. "Nothing, Seth. He won't help us."  
  
Seth frowned. "Now what? He's out there somewhere, and now he's got a least a fifteen minute lead on us!" He grabbed his jacket, prepared to search the streets.  
  
"No, Seth." Sandy raised a hand to stop his son. "I want you to go home. Call Mom, she'll give you a ride."  
  
"What're you gonna do, Dad?" Seth asked, pulling out his own cell phone. Under normal circumstances, he would refuse to be doing nothing to help find his friend, but there was a look in his father's eyes that he couldn't ignore.  
  
Pulling out the keys to his car, Sandy moved to the doorway. "I have an idea of where he might be." With that, he raised his hand in a brief wave and left. 


	10. 9: The Silent Shock

A/N: Wow... It's been awhile, huh? Oops. Sorry 'bout that. I've been really busy. I'll try to post a few chapters during break. A couple chapters ago was one of my favorite chapters... One of the next ones will be another favorite. Hmm... well, yeah. Again, sorry for the delay in posting!  
  
Chapter 9  
  
Sandy parked in the same spot he'd parked the day prior. Slamming the driver's door shut behind him, he pressed the lock button on his keys, listened for the beep informing him that the car was, indeed, locked, then rushed towards the small house. This time he wasted no time glancing around for possible car-stealers - he didn't care this time, his mind was solely on Ryan.  
  
He noticed the front door was slightly ajar - unless it had been burglarized in the last 24 hours, then Ryan was definitely here. At least, he had been. Sandy only hoped that he had stuck around. Pushing open the door, he immediately noticed Ryan's jacket carelessly thrown on the ground.  
  
Glancing around, he searched for his foster son. Not in the living room... or the kitchen... Sandy began to panic - where was he?  
  
Peeking in the doorway to the bedroom where Sandy'd found Dawn, he spotted Ryan. The teenager was sitting on the floor, a shoebox and scattered photographs surrounding him. Tears were streaming down his paled cheeks; he was leafing through the photos slowly, mumbling to himself.  
  
Sandy opened his mouth to call out to Ryan, but he stopped himself, noticing an object on the ground within an arm's length of the boy. A gun. Sandy cursed to himself - Ryan must have found it in the closet while searching for the shoebox of pictures. Sandy sighed inwardly. What was he going to do? He couldn't stand there forever, he needed to help Ryan.  
  
Bracing himself for any possible situation that might come from this, Sandy let out a whisper. "Ryan?" At receiving no reaction, he hesitantly tried again, this time a bit louder. "Ryan?"  
  
Ryan's senses may not have picked up on Sandy's arrival, but his sense of paranoia was unusually high. Hearing Sandy's voice, he snapped to his feet, tears stopped falling and the gun already in his hand.  
  
Sandy gulped. "Ryan, it's okay..." Upon receiving no response, he continued. "I'm sorry about your mother."  
  
Ryan's emotions were extremely raw - you could easily read his pain from his eyes, which were now red and puffy from crying. Ryan tensed at the mention of his mother. "Yeah?" He scoffed.  
  
Sandy nodded. "Yes, Ryan. We're all sorry about it."  
  
He was definitely not prepared for Ryan's following outburst. "If everyone cared so much, then why didn't anyone fucking save her?" Ryan yelled, waving the gun around.  
  
"I'm sure they tried," Sandy spoke softly, his eyes darting between the gun and the dangerous glint in Ryan's eyes.  
  
"No," Ryan whispered. "No one... Not even I did..." A tear slid down his cheek. "Fuck me, why didn't I save her?" Immense guilt racking his body, he let out an audible sob, then slowly raised his right hand... the hand holding the gun... to his head. "Why didn't I save her?" He asked in a deathly whisper. He cocked the gun. 


	11. 10: The Silent Plead

Author's Note: Wow. It's been awhile. Sorry for that. I just... Well... The O.C. stopped being my top fandom priority. I always do that; I go through phases. In one phase, then into another, then another, another... It's insane. Anyway, here's chapter ten. Enjoy.  
  
Chapter 10  
  
He gaped at the sight in front of him, unbelieving. "...Ryan!" He whispered, staring the estranged teenager.  
  
Ryan shook, his eyes of blue ice welled up with unshed tears.  
  
"Ryan," Sandy repeated, "don't do this, please..."  
  
"My mother's dead..." Ryan's voice, usually hard and stable, shook with raw emotion and confusion.  
  
"I know, Ryan... I'm sorry about that - the doctors tried their best, but..." Sandy held out his hands in a silent plea. "They were just too late. She was too sick, Ryan."  
  
"No!" Ryan barked. "I should've been able to get her to the hospital... I should've made a better plan to get her past A.J...."  
  
Though confused by Ryan's last comment, Sandy ignored it for the time being. "Ryan... none of this is your fault, you've got to believe me." Silence. "Please don't do this..."  
  
"Why?" Ryan whispered. "Who would care? Mom can't even pretend to care anymore. A.J. hates me - to him I'm just a punching bag, and Trey thinks I'm just the kid to help do his dirty work..."  
  
"We care, Ryan," Sandy spoke earnestly, carefully gauging Ryan's emotions. "Seth, Kirsten and I care."  
  
"No, you don't," Ryan's voice wavered. "I'm just a charity case - a way so you all can feel good about yourselves, knowing that you're doing good."  
  
Sandy's eyes widened - had Ryan thought this all along? "That's not true, Ryan, not true at all. For Seth, you're like the brother and best friend put into one that he's never had! Have you noticed how he always wants to do things with you? It's not just because he wants you to feel welcome! It's because if you don't want to go to the beach, then neither does he." Sandy took a step forward and continued. He was on a roll. "He looks up to you and admires you, Ryan. You don't get all those feelings for a charity case!" He looked Ryan square in the eyes.  
  
Ryan shifted his weight, uncomfortable. "Umm..." His hand fell to his lap, still gripping the gun.  
  
Sandy continued. "Have you even noticed how Kirsten is always making sure you've gotten something to eat or enough rest? Just like she does with Seth. You're not just our foster son, Ryan... You're our son. We care about you, obviously more than you think we do."  
  
Ryan was looking at the photo-littered ground, stricken. Finally, he looked back up at Sandy. "And you?"  
  
The lawyer let out a small smile. "What d'you think, Ryan? I feel the same as Kirsten and Seth. You're my son and I love you."  
  
Obviously, this was more than Ryan had expected. He dropped the gun to the ground, stepping on photographs as he stumbled over to Sandy. "I..." He choked out his words. "I love you too." He stumbled into Sandy's open arms, finally letting out enormous sobs which racked his guilt-ridden body.  
  
Sandy could only rub the teenager's back in soothing circles. "Shh... it'll be okay..."  
  
To his immense relief, when Ryan looked back up at him, the ice had melted into tears and the gentle, warm blue eyes had returned with a smile. 


End file.
